Maria stirred her coffee. “So tell me about Patrick. Why do you think he sees you as a sister? That’s not the impression he gave me.”
“Maria, you think everyone is in love with everyone else. You are the original romantic.”
Maria blushed prettily. “I just want everyone to be as happy as I am. I can’t believe I have only known Conrad a few months. I feel like I’ve known him forever.” Maria’s expression clouded for a moment. “I just wish Papa had met him.”
A tear escaped as Maria took a gulp of her coffee.
“Your father would have liked him. From what you’ve said, Conrad is everything your Papa was. Kind, considerate, and a good worker. He invited Gustav and young Alice to live with him and even got Gustav his old job back.”
“He’s lovely, but he’s not Italian and that would have been an issue for Papa. Mama too.”
“Has she still not come around to the idea of having a German-Irish son in law?”
“Frieda, he hasn’t proposed yet!” Maria protested, her cheeks turning scarlet.
“‘Yet’ being the operative word. We both know he will and you will say yes.”
A shadow of doubt appeared in Maria’s eyes.
“We aren’t talking about Conrad, we’re talking about Patrick. Tell me what happened.”
Frieda relayed the story of how Patrick had told her over Christmas how glad he was that she was part of the family; how he had tried to insist the family dinner Richard wanted wasn’t complete without her. Then she told Maria about what had happened after he stood up for her with Caldwell.
“Did his head need stitching back together?” Maria asked. Frieda wasn’t following.
“Frieda, you bit his head off after he did something kind. No wonder the man is confused. You’re giving off the wrong signals. You don’t get a man to marry you by shouting at him or treating him like the enemy.”
“Marry? I didn’t say anything about getting married.”
“Not in so many words, but I know you’ve thought about it. I’ve seen that dreamy expression on your face when Patrick’s around. I haven’t seen what you’re like when you’re alone with him, and I’m not sure I want to after what you just said.”
Frieda poked her tongue out but Maria ignored her.
“When we were at dinner in the Sanctuary, when Lily was talking about her factory, you couldn’t keep your eyes off one another. Frieda, I would bet my wages he feels the same as you do.”
Frieda’s hopes flared, “You would?”
“Yes I would. Maybe he does consider you part of his family, after all you have grown up in his shadow. Kathleen and Lily are like aunts to you, mothers even. So he may act more familiar with you than he would another woman, but a man doesn’t look at his sister the way Patrick looks at you.”
Frieda couldn’t stop her hopes rising. “So what should I do? I can’t ask him out, and he has never asked me anywhere.”
Maria rolled her eyes, “He asked you to dinner.”
“With his parents,” Frieda retorted.
Maria wasn’t accepting any excuses. “He still asked. You acting like a bear with a sore paw isn’t going to help him take the first step, is it? You have to treat a man delicately.”
“How do you know so much about men?”
“I’m Italian aren’t I? Italy is the home of romantics. Or is that France? Anyway, I’ve seen my sister, my cousins, Benito’s wife,” Maria screwed up her face at the mention of her sister in law, “They all got the man they wanted, and it wasn’t by shouting at him.”
Frieda didn’t care that Maria was younger than she was. She had more experience with men, having a married brother and a courting sister as well as a boyfriend. Frieda knew she needed help, “So what do you suggest I do?”
“Apologize for hurting his feelings. Ask him questions, make him feel important. Mama says when you want something from a man, you have to make him think it was his idea. When they came to America first, Papa wouldn’t let Mama work. No matter how hard things were, he refused, saying an Italian man always supported his family. Mama knew they couldn’t afford to live on Papa’s earnings. But he was a stubborn man with too much pride. She said she dropped a few comments about how wives of his friends were able to buy eggs and butter during the week. How embarrassed she was at not being able to bake a cake to celebrate an engagement, a birth, or something else. Papa loved mama, and knew keeping a clean home and being a good cook was important to an Italian woman. Weeks later, Mama dropped a couple of hints about how Mrs. Milano or Mrs. Cornelli were making a few cents from home making artificial flowers. Mrs. Maltese, on the other hand, was out working in a factory with her daughters. Soon Papa started talking about how wonderful it was in America that you could earn money from home without going out to work. Mama was working on her artificial flowers in no time, and Papa thought it was all his idea.”
Frieda smiled as Maria recounted the story, but when her friend stopped and stared at her, she couldn’t relate it to her and Patrick.
“I don’t see how to apply that to Patrick.”
“For an intelligent girl, you can be very dumb, my friend.” Maria smiled to reduce the insult. “You want Patrick to court you, to show you how he really feels. So get him to take you to tea or to see a play or whatever it is doctors do in their time off.”
“I can’t ask him out.” Frieda felt like a parrot repeating the same objections, but she had to make Maria listen.
“Frieda, you aren’t going to do the asking. You just plant the seed and let him take the hint.”
They finished their cakes, left a tip for the server, and walked out into the noisy streets. Maria was meeting Conrad; Frieda planned to go back to the Sanctuary and enjoy an early night.
As they walked, Maria spoke about her sister Rosa’s upcoming wedding.
“Mama is putting on a brave face, but at least Rosa gets to marry in a church and in white. The neighbors won’t have any reason to talk about the Mezza’s.” Maria imitated her mother’s accent, making Frieda laugh. “I wanted to tell her all the neighbors would be too scared to say a word given he’s a Greco, but I had to let it pass. I have to be careful with Mama, especially when it comes to her Rosa.”
Frieda picked up on Maria’s hurt. “Maria, your mother loves you too. This wedding is her way of dealing with the grief of losing your father. She doesn’t mean to be harsh with you. Be patient.”
Maria stopped suddenly causing the person behind her to walk into her. Maria apologized and pulled Frieda to the edge of the sidewalk.
“You need to take your own advice, my lovely friend. Is Patrick working tonight?”
Surprised at the change in topic, Frieda replied. “Yes, at least I think so.”
Maria darted over to a stall holder selling fresh donuts. She bought two and returned.
“Maria, I can’t eat another cake.”
“They aren’t for us, silly. Take them to the hospital as a peace offering. Say you’re sorry for biting his head off.”
“I’ll look silly.”
“And? Do you want him or not?” Maria kissed Frieda’s cheek. “Go on, off you go before you spend too much time thinking about it. Good luck, and don’t forget to let me know how it goes.”
Maria gave her a friendly push in the direction of the hospital and had disappeared before Frieda could pull her thoughts together.
“Why not?” she said, not realizing she’d spoken aloud until people stared at her. Grinning, she picked up her skirt and walked faster in the direction of the hospital.
Chapter 6
The hospital waiting room wasn’t too busy, and Freida found Patrick having a coffee while reading some notes. He yawned as he read. She saw the dark shadows under his eyes. How long had he been on duty? He glanced up and caught her staring at him. A wary expression darkened the blue of his eyes.
“Frieda?”
She thrust the bag of donuts at him. “Here, these will help your energy levels.”
He sniffed appre
ciably, “Fresh donuts. What’s the occasion?”
He looked at her, and she tried to speak but couldn’t. What had Maria told her to say? Her mind went blank. She panicked realizing she looked like a right fool standing in front of him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.
“Frieda?”
“Sorry. I wanted to apologize for snapping at you, the other day. I don’t know what came over me. The donuts are a peace offering.”
“That’s real sweet of you, Frieda, but you didn’t have to come all the way to the hospital just to see me.”
“I wanted to.” Oh great, now she sounded desperate. “What I mean is, it would be awkward with us working together, you know if there was an atmosphere between us.”
He looked more confused than she sounded. She wished Maria was here. This wasn’t going the way she wanted it to.
“Don’t you like them?” she asked, pointing at the donuts. He took a bite.
“They’re delicious. Remind me to annoy you more often. I could get used to having donuts bought for me.” He turned to get a plate. “Would you like to share?”
“No thank you. I had cake at Charlie’s with Maria.”
“How is she?”
“Good. She was asking for you.” Darn it, now he’d know they were talking about him. “I mean you and the rest of the family.”
“I see.” He ate the rest of the donut in silence.
Frieda couldn’t think of anything else to say, and the lingering silence grew uncomfortable. “I should go home. I hope you don’t have too busy a night.”
“Looks like a quiet one. Thanks for the donuts. I’m glad we are friends again. I missed you.”
“Did you?” Her voice sounded so squeaky.
“Yes, I did. I love talking to you and seeing you every day.”
She smiled as her stomach twisted, her heart raced.
“Elsa and Richie have been asking for you as well. They miss you too.”
Her stomach hardened as if he had punched her. He only saw her as a friend of the family. She tried to stay smiling as he added, “You should come over to the house one day when you finish work early. They’d love to see you.”
“I will. Bye Patrick.”
He replied, but she couldn’t tell what he said due to the noise drumming in her ears. A voice in her head calling her a fool. What did you think he’d do? Take you in his arms and profess his love? Her cheeks flamed as she walked through the halls, out of the hospital. She declined a cab, preferring the fresh air to cool her face. She was a complete idiot. That was the last time she was ever taking romantic advice from Maria.
Chapter 7
February 1911, New York
Maria Mezza trudged through the melting snow, greeting various stall holders she knew as she took the familiar route to her job at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. Her sister chattered on about her upcoming wedding to Paulo Greco. Maria tried to appear interested, but nothing could make her warm to her sister’s fiancé. He was a thug and always would be. He treated Rosa well, if giving someone extravagant presents was a sign of love. Maria questioned where the money came from to buy these gifts, he didn’t appear to have a real job. He worked a few hours a day in a barber shop one day, but the next he’d be behind the counter of a small store.
“Maria?” Rosa hissed.
“Sorry, what?”
“You weren't listening to a word I said. What’s wrong with you?”
Maria didn’t need her sister snapping at her. “Rosa, I’m tired. You snore in your sleep, you kept me awake.”
“I don’t snore. Take that back.” Rosa stopped walking, hands on her hips.
Maria kept moving. They’d be late, and she didn’t want her wages docked. She hated her job at the Triangle with a passion. It wasn’t the work so much; it was the place. Working so many floors up, being locked in for ten hours a day made her feel like a trapped rat. She particularly resented being searched every day as she was leaving. As if she was a common thief.
Conrad suggested they both stay working there until Lily’s factory was up and running. Then they would leave to work for Lily. When they’d saved enough to marry, he would work and she could go back to school and train to be a teacher. He was adamant she wouldn't remain a seamstress after they married.
Sighing, she linked arms with her sulky sister. “Sorry Rosa. I’m bad tempered today.”
“You are! Wait until you get married, if you ever get engaged.” Rosa glanced at her, but Maria kept her face expressionless.
Conrad spoke about the future, after they married but he hadn't proposed yet, and she worried about the evil eye. Mama had told them the old stories of how when you planned things to be wonderful, the evil eye could ruin them out of spite. Maria claimed not to be superstitious, but she didn’t want to tempt fate.
“I know you’re excited Rosa, but can we please talk about something other than weddings or houses or babies? Just for today, please.”
Rosa opened her mouth to protest but closed it again, shrugging her shoulders. “What do you want to talk about then?”
Maria didn't care so long as the word Paulo didn’t come into it. “Want to come to Frieda’s with me on Wednesday?” she suggested.
Rose screwed her nose up. “To that place.”
Maria snapped, “It’s a woman’s sanctuary, not a brothel, Rosa.”
Horrified, Rosa glanced around her quickly as she made a sign of the cross. “Keep your voice down, Maria. What if someone overheard you? Our reputations would be in the gutter. If you want to go visit that place, it’s your choice. I have better things to be doing.”
Thankfully, they’d just reached the Asch building, or she’d have been tempted to throw her sister into the slush piled up on the sidewalk. Frieda was her closest friend, and Rosa couldn’t even say her name. She was meeting Frieda outside the Asch building, but she didn’t clarify that to Rosa. Her sister could go jump.
Chapter 8
“Good morning my beautiful Italian girls. How are we this morning?” Joseph, the elevator operator, greeted them, his eyes dancing, his face lit up with a smile.
Every day he smiled and flirted with all the ladies, from the oldest to the youngest.
“How can you be so cheerful every day?” Maria once asked him after a difficult day at the factory.
“Why not? I have a full belly, a happy home, and I can look after my family as I have steady work. I am a fortunate man. My life is better than some.”
Maria couldn't disagree with him. There was always someone worse off than you.
This morning she forced a smile, trying to swallow her rage at Rosa as she greeted him, “Morning, Joseph.”
They flew up to their floor and were sitting at their respective machines less than ten minutes later. She glanced around to see who was in to chat to, she had a few minutes before the machines would start.
She knew most of her fellow workers now. Angela and her sister, Bernadette, had worked with her at the old factory but left after Reinhart’s harassment of the young girls became too much. Leonie Chiver waved to her. Maria walked over to where the younger girl sat, she looked thinner than ever, and much older.
“Leonie, want to come for a walk at lunchtime? The snow’s melting. We can grab a hot cup of coffee?”
“I’d love to, Maria, but just for the walk.”
Maria agreed, but as she made it back to her own work area, she calculated she had enough change to buy coffee for the both of them. She might even have enough to buy Leonie a donut. The girl looked even worse close up, worry lines making her look like she was frowning. Frieda had told her about Leonie’s spell in Jail during the strike, the depth of poverty she lived in at home with her invalid mother and younger siblings. Leonie’s father was alive and well, but had skipped out on his family some years previously. Maria took her seat and checked to see her needle was threaded and ready to use. They should arrest men for desertion, make them break rocks like other prisoners and pay their wages paid directly to the f
amily.
“Maria, you’ll turn the needle crooked with that face. What’s wrong with you?” Anna Gullo asked. Her half teasing, half serious expression made Maria feel guilty. Anna had been very good to her, she shouldn’t cause her supervisor a moment’s worry. Anna was the reason she had a job, having ignored Maria’s role in the strike.
“I was thinking about men who desert their families.”
Anna glanced in Leonie’s direction before rolling her eyes. “If he was my man, I would hit him with something hard. Make him think twice. Poor Leonie, at her age she should have fun. Instead, she is old before her time.”
There was no time for more conversation as the machines started with a roar.
Chapter 9
Lunch time came, and she spotted Conrad making his way to her workspace. Most of the workforce ate their lunch at the window sills, but she preferred to escape the building, if only for a few minutes.
“Walk with me?” he asked.
“I’ve plans. You should have spoken earlier,” Maria teased.
“You are a popular lady. Who is my competition?” He pretended to push his chest out as if jealous, making her giggle.
“Leonie Chiver. I asked her to come for a walk. She looked miserable this morning.”
“Why can’t I come too? Instead of one pretty lady, I get to have two on my arm.”
She poked him in the chest. “I won’t share you with anyone.”
His eyes warmed as he gazed back at her, his glance moving to her lips. Her heart beat faster. He wouldn’t kiss her now. Would he? They were at work. He broke the moment by calling over her shoulder.
“Leonie, would you mind if I tagged along with you and Maria?”
Maria exhaled, trying to control her racing pulse. Being this near to him was disconcerting as she wanted him to pull her into his arms. She turned to greet Leonie.
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